Always, he is here, he remains with me as a shadow of my form.

Ever present, seen in the mist and gray of my vision in fear. His laughter and foul words ring still in my ears, broadcast loudly in my mind. I have no control of content or volume, as again he takes over my brain. My body cringes, pulling away of the invisible hands upon it. My body aches, I feel my throat closing, strangling my screams like a killer in the dark. The panic comes over me like the tall ocean waves, drowning me in fear of the impossible. Fear of what is not, what does not happen. Once again, my reality leaves me in the cruel hands of the memories. I can smell him as a wild animal can scent danger. The vile, sour taste in my throat burns down into my stomach. He is here, but he is not here. He takes me away of my life again. And I let him.

Avatar photo in memory of my younger brother Makar.

"Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted."~~~Martin Luther King Jr., 1963